


we gamble with desire

by softirwin



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, this is weak im sorry but im uploading it because georgie basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:34:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softirwin/pseuds/softirwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Guys,” Michael says, making his way into the back lounge. “Have you heard of fanfiction?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	we gamble with desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [toastghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastghost/gifts).



> this is for georgie sighs dramatically

“Guys,” Michael says, making his way into the back lounge. “Have you heard of fanfiction?”

“Yeah,” Calum says absent-mindedly, not looking up from his phone as Michael slumps down next to him, resting his head on Calum’s shoulder. “That’s the thing where the fans write about us fucking, isn’t it?”

“What?” Luke asks, sounding half-shocked, half-afraid. “Write about us fucking who?”

“Each other,” Calum says. “Haven’t you ever read any?”

“No!” Luke says, scandalised. “What the hell is that all about?”

“I don’t know,” Michael says, with a half-shrug. “Some of it’s quite well-written.”

“You like reading well-written porn about us fucking?” Luke asks Michael.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Michael says. “I usually read me and Calum.”

“ _Usually?”_ Luke says, and his voice is about three octaves higher than normal. “Do you do this often? Is this what you get off to? Have you read it whilst I was in the room?”

“Someone go help Luke,” Calum says half-heartedly. “Sounds like he’s about to have a fit.”

“Ash,” Luke says, rounding on Ashton. “Have you heard of this?”

“No,” Ashton says.

“That’s it,” Calum says encouragingly, “make him feel like he’s not the only one.” Ashton chucks the nearest cushion at him.

“C’mon, it’s just a bit of fun,” Ashton says to Luke.

“That’s what Calum said to Luke when he put his fist up Luke’s arse in this one fic I was reading,” Michael remarks.

“ _Fist?!_ Does that even fit?” Luke demands.

“I don’t know,” Calum says, curling his fingers into a fist and staring at it thoughtfully. “Wanna try?”

“Get away from me,” Luke says fearfully, curling himself into a ball. “Nobody’s anything is going up my arse.”

“Bit of a waste,” Michael says. “You’ve got a nice arse.”

“Stop talking about my arse!” Luke squawks, trying to cover it with his hands. “This is harassment.”

“It is,” Michael agrees.

“I hate this band,” Luke mutters.

-

After that, it kind of weighs on Ashton’s mind. He’s only read a _few_ fanfics, like, just to see what they’re all about, and he’s never really bothered delving into it. But after their discussion, it’s all Ashton can think about.

It’s just gone two a.m. and Ashton’s the only one left awake. He’s sitting up as best he can in his bunk, laptop on his thighs, fingers tapping the keyboard thoughtfully before he starts typing properly.

_5 seconds of summer fanfiction_

He hits enter on Google, and the page loads immediately. Ashton scrolls, looking through the results for something that catches his eye, but it seems to all be the band members having sex with the girls who had written the stories. It’s not what Ashton’s looking for, since they’re probably all twelve years out of his age range.

_5 seconds of summer gay fanfiction_

That search loads the results Ashton was hoping for. A bunch of emotional, angsty-looking fanfics make up the top few results, but as Ashton scrolls further they start to turn into more sex-fuelled stories. He clicks on one called ‘Ad _dick_ ted To You – Michael/Ashton’ and taps his fingers against his laptop almost nervously as he waits for the page to load, wondering if the title is from the Simple Plan song.

The story’s weak at the beginning, like all the shitty porn Ashton’s watched in his life where they set up an awful backstory just so it doesn’t go straight into the fucking. It picks up when fanfic-Ashton crawls over to fanfic-Michael and asks him (‘huskily’, which is not a word Ashton thinks would ever describe how he speaks in any situation, especially sexual) if Ashton’s ‘turning him on’. Ashton wrinkles his nose at that – as if he’d _ever_ ask Michael if he were turned on; and anyway, Ashton’s seen Michael’s dick far too many times and it’s big enough that if Michael were turned on Ashton would definitely know.

Fanfic-Ashton then proceeds to suck Michael off, something which leaves Ashton in a very confusing position. On the one hand, it’s _Michael_ , and if even Ashton _were_ sucking off members of his band Michael would be bottom of the list, but on the other hand it’s- well. Weirdly hot, reading about Michael hissing his name and coming down his throat.

(Ashton brings a hand to his jaw absent-mindedly. Michael’s dick wouldn’t even fit in his mouth, he’s pretty sure. Maybe Calum’s would. Or maybe Luke’s.)

Ashton reaches the end of the fanfic with a weird taste in his mouth and a churning in his stomach, because he’s just read porn about him with his _best friend’s_ dick in his mouth and enjoying it. And he kind of liked it.

He closes the browser abruptly, shoving the laptop off his thighs and pulling his blanket up over his shoulders. He’s not going to think about this until he has to.

-

“Why have we never compared dick sizes?” Calum asks when he walks into the back lounge the next day.

“This sounds like the start to a conversation I want no part in,” Luke mutters, and makes to leave.

“Excuse me,” Calum says, blocking his path. “You think the band can compare dick sizes without you? You’re part of the band.”

“I’m seventeen,” Luke tries.

“Legal where we’re from,” Michael points out. Luke throws him a glare.

“I’m not showing you my dick,” he says.

“We’ve all already seen it,” Ashton says.

“So you all know how big it is,” Luke says, “and therefore I don’t need to be here.”

“We haven’t seen it hard,” Calum says. Luke’s eyes widen.

“I am _not_ wanking in front of you lot,” he says. “I don’t think I can even get hard with Michael’s face in the same room as me.”  

“Hey,” Michael says, but he doesn’t sound too affronted. “Comparing dick sizes is a good idea.”

“No, it isn’t,” Luke says. “I’m vetoing this idea. I need to restore sanity in this band.”

“C’mon,” Calum says, undoing his fly and pulling his jeans and boxers down in one go. He’s already half-hard, Ashton notices. “We’re all friends here.”

“No, we’re not,” Luke declares, “because you all want to see my dick.”

“No one else does,” Michael says, standing up and starting to undo his fly as well. “Might as well take it.”

“ _Plenty_ of people want to see my dick, Clifford,” Luke says, pointing at him accusingly. “I’m out of here.” He slips out of the room before anybody can stop him, and Ashton stares at the door for at least thirty seconds after it’s closed behind him.

He really, _really_ wants to see Luke’s dick now.

“C’mon, Irwin,” Calum says. “Us three can compare without Luke.”

“We all know Michael’s the biggest,” Ashton says, but his fingers fumble with his fly anyway.

-

Ashton’s not up for reading another fanfic of him and Michael, after seeing Michael’s dick in all its glory today, because that would _definitely_ not fit anywhere in Ashton’s body. Calum, on the other hand, is a wholly different story. His dick isn’t _nice_ , because no dicks really are, but it’s nic _er_ and if Ashton were to put his bandmates in order of which he’d like to suck off most Calum would be either second or first. It’s frustrating that Luke won’t show them his dick, because it means Luke could be anywhere in the list and Ashton’s carefully thought-out order could go to shit.

“Hey,” Ashton whispers, having a sudden thought. “Lukey, you awake?”

“Mhmm,” comes the groggy mutter from the bunk across from him. “Wha’?”

“Is the reason you won’t show us your dick because it’s horribly deformed?” It takes a beat for Luke to answer.

“Fuck off,” he mumbles, rolling over.

Well. It isn’t a no.

Ashton shrugs and lets it go for now, debating whether he should tell Calum and Michael tomorrow but deciding that he wants it to be his little secret. Just like the fanfic he’s got loaded on his screen.

It’s a lot like the last one, with a weak plot buildup to the main body, but it’s Ashton and Calum giving each other handjobs backstage. It’s wildly unrealistic, given that Calum doesn’t get off the bus until like, the last _minute_ before they have to go onstage, and unpractical given that backstage is filled with people walking around and Ashton doesn’t think he’s ever been alone backstage in his entire life. He goes with it, though, ignoring all the bits that don’t work and pretending they do.

It’s when he gets to the bit where Calum starts kissing his neck whilst giving him a handjob that Ashton starts to get more than a little uncomfortable in his jogging bottoms, feeling himself get a little harder than he’d strictly like to whilst reading about himself fucking into his best friend’s fist. And when he gets to the bit where Calum comes and whines _daddy_ against Ashton’s skin – well. Ashton presses the heel of his hand down on his cock and bites his lip a lot harder than he wishes he had to.

“Are you wanking?” Luke’s sleepy voice comes from the bed opposite, and Ashton stills immediately. He’d thought Luke had fallen asleep.

“No,” he says.

“The light from your laptop gives you a silhouette on the curtain,” Luke reminds him, and Ashton swallows. _Fuck_.

“Sorry,” he says. He hadn’t _really_ been wanking. “I’ll- yeah. I wasn’t yet, but. I might just. Go to sleep, or like. Or something.”

“Don’t stop because of me,” Luke says, yawning. “’S hot. I like it.”

And if that doesn’t make Ashton four times harder and twelve times more confused than any line of that fic had, he doesn’t know what will.

-

Luke doesn’t say anything the next day, and Ashton wonders if he’s forgotten. It had been pretty late, and Luke had been pretty tired, so Ashton can forgive him for saying things he doesn’t mean.

(But then he catches Luke staring at him more than once, turning away with a fierce blush as soon as Ashton spots him, and begins to think that maybe a tired Luke is an honest Luke.)

It’s a travelling day, so the boys sleep in as long as they can, bursting with newfound energy as soon as they drag themselves out of their bunks (except Michael, who seems to be permanently tired). They can’t get off until the bus stops, though, so they’re all pent-up with this energy and can’t do anything in the confines of the bus.

Calum decides they should play spin the bottle.

“No,” Luke says. “Absolutely not.”

“Nobody’s asking you to show them your dick,” Calum says.

“I didn’t say you were,” Luke says, “but now that you mention it I’d like to remind you all that I am not showing any of you my dick. Ever.”

“Spoilsport,” Ashton says. “C’mon, Lukey, as if we’ve not all kissed each other before.”

“We haven’t sober,” Luke says.

“Me and Calum have,” Michael says, not looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, but that’s you and Calum,” Luke says. “ _I_ haven’t kissed any of you sober. And I don’t plan on doing so,” he adds hastily, as Calum opens his mouth, spotting the loophole.

“Just play it,” Calum insists. “It’ll be fun. Please. Please, Lukey.” He does the eyes at Luke, knowing Luke can’t ever resist them (nobody except Michael can), and Luke sighs.

“One round,” he says. “That’s it. Then I’m going to quit the band and join McBusted.”

“You’re the best,” Calum says, kissing Luke on the cheek and reaching for an empty bottle. “Get on the floor, Mikey, you can’t play from the sofa.”

“There are no fucking rules about that,” Michael scowls, but he gets on the floor between Calum and Ashton and crosses his legs anyway. Ashton tries to sit at an angle that means he won’t touch Luke’s knee with his own, but given that they’re on the bus in a tiny space and they’re all pretty tall guys with long legs it doesn’t work all that well.

“Who’s spinning first?” Calum says. “I am.”

“You didn’t give any of us the chance to respond,” Ashton protests.

“The beauty of the rhetorical question,” Calum says, spinning the bottle. It lands on Michael, who makes a kissy-face at Calum and shuts his eyes, and Calum brings his hand up to Michael’s cheek, kissing him softly, lingering a moment before breaking apart.

“That was weirdly cute,” Ashton says.

“Bromance kisses,” Michael tells him, picking up the bottle and spinning it. “You should try them.”

“Apparently, I will,” Ashton says, as the bottle lands on him. “Give me a kiss, Mikey.” Michael pulls a face at the prospect of movement but heaves himself onto his knees, leaning forwards and pressing his lips against Ashton’s. It’s not bad, really, when Michael kisses soft and slow, making Ashton feel like Michael doesn’t care about anything but him and the kiss at that moment. Weirdly cute, like he said.

“Oh,” Michael says when they break apart, and Ashton touches his lips absent-mindedly, still feeling Michael’s there. “You’re a nice person to kiss.”

“Thanks,” Ashton says.

“Calum took a picture,” Luke tells them. Calum cradles his phone to his chest.

“And nobody can take it away from me,” he says. “Ashton, your turn.” Ashton picks up the bottle obediently and spins it, watching it with trepidation, praying it doesn’t land on Luke.

It doesn’t; it lands on Calum.

“Good,” Calum says. “I was starting to feel a bit left out.”

“I’m not moving,” Ashton says pointedly, and Calum rolls his eyes but gets on his knees and shuffles forward a bit, curling his fingers around Ashton’s neck and kissing him. It’s different kissing Calum to kissing Michael; Michael’s softer, gentler, sweeter (although Ashton has fair reason to believe that isn’t always the case) and Calum kisses harder, with more purpose and meaning. He has Ashton tilting his head up into the kiss, and when his fingers brush the side of Ashton’s neck Ashton whimpers, full on _whimpers_ into the kiss, making Calum pull away.

“Sweet spot?” he asks with a smirk.

“You _know_ that,” Ashton says accusingly. “You found out in truth or dare like, _two years ago_. Bastard.”

“Sorry,” Calum says, but he’s grinning and couldn’t look less sorry. “Must have slipped my mind.” Ashton flips him off, glowering at him, but he can feel his heartbeat just beginning to slow down. He hates this band.

“Luke’s turn,” Michael announces excitedly.

“Hope it’s me,” Calum says. “I can grope his dick.”

“No dick-groping,” Luke says firmly. “Keep your hands above my torso.”

“You want me to have my hands in the air?” Calum says.

“Yeah,” Michael says, “do jazz hands whilst kissing him.”

“’Cause it’s such an honour to kiss Luke Hemmings,” Ashton chimes in.

“I hate you,” Luke and Calum say together. Michael and Ashton laugh.

“C’mon,” Calum urges. “Spin it.”

“Keep your fucking panties on, Hood,” Luke mutters, reaching across to grab the bottle and spin it. It lands on Michael. Calum looks disappointed. Ashton can’t pretend he isn’t, either, but for different reasons.

“Kiss me,” Michael demands, and Luke leans across the little circle-square thing they have going on and does so, pressing his lips to Michael’s swiftly. He pulls away just as swiftly, and Michael pouts.

“That wasn’t a proper kiss,” Calum says.

“Lip on lip contact,” Luke says, “I think you will find is defined as a kiss.”

“We are going to draw up rules of this game,” Calum says, pointing at Luke, “and the length of the kiss will be amongst those rules.”

“Alright,” Luke says, shrugging. “Anyway, I’ve done my duty and kissed someone, so I’m going to go and play guitar.” He gets up and leaves, leaving Michael, Calum and Ashton in the silence he leaves in his wake.

“I wish he’d kissed me longer,” Michael says after a while.

“I wish he’d kissed me at all,” Calum says wistfully, and Ashton can’t help but heartily agree.

-

Ashton waits until three in the morning, until he can hear Luke’s breathing even out, to load his fanfic of choice for the night. It’s him and Luke, and it looks alright from the preview.

(Ashton takes a moment to wonder when his life went this far off track. He reckons it was probably around some time he met Luke.)

It’s better written than the other two have been, with more plot at the beginning and some jokes that have Ashton stifling genuine laughter because Michael would _definitely_ say that and Calum would _absolutely_ do that. It means Ashton’s still smiling when he gets to the bit where he’s pushing Luke up against a wall, pinning him there with his hips and feeling Luke’s dick against his thigh.

He’s not smiling anymore.

He’s already painfully hard by the time it gets to the real smut, by the time Luke’s grinding against him and moaning his name, and he pauses for a moment, listening for any noise that could possibly mean Luke’s woken up before he dips his hand below the waistband of his jogging bottoms and curls his fingers around his cock.

It’s kind of hard, scrolling with one hand and stroking himself with the other but he manages somehow, and he’s just getting into the familiar rhythm of it when he hears a noise and freezes, hand still around his dick. He can’t hear anything but the sudden pounding of blood in his ears, which is the most _useless_ reaction his body has got in it, but he waits for it to subside and listens intently. It takes a few moments, but then he hears it again.

It’s a moan.

It’s not just any moan; it’s _Luke’s_ moan.

(Ashton wishes he hadn’t spent enough time on a bus with the three boys to be able to tell them apart by their moans but he has and he can and he’s got to learn to deal with it. Some people would kill to be in his position.)

“Fuck,” he hears, a low sound, and Ashton’s kind of unsure whether he’s dreaming or whether this is real, but he closes the lid of the laptop as quietly as he can to avoid drawing attention to himself. Is Luke like, wanking, or is he having a wet dream?

Ashton turns his head to try and see whether there’s any movement in Luke’s bunk, peek out of the crack in his curtain, and sees the exceptionally vague silhouette of Luke throwing his head back, sitting up.

Right. So he’s awake then.

Ashton’s suddenly aware of his hand still around his dick, and he moves it experimentally, one slow stroke, biting his lip to avoid making any noise. He doesn’t want Luke to know he’s awake.

“Shit,” Luke says, and Ashton speeds up his movements a little, biting his lip harder and pushing his jogging bottoms down with his spare hand to avoid making any unnecessary noise. He can hear Luke, his little gasps and whines and moans and whimpers and God, it’s so fucking hot and he needs to come _right now_ or he might die and finding a replacement drummer of Ashton’s calibre will be extremely difficult.

He lets himself fuck into his fist a few times, thrusting his hips and biting back a groan as Luke moans a bit louder, getting confident (or getting close). Ashton’s embarrassingly close himself, having had a two-part wank session and hearing Luke’s damn sex noises properly for the first time. He thinks he might be able to hold out a little longer, wait until Luke’s finished and asleep and then finish himself off so that he can let out at least a _little_ noise but then Luke hisses and gasps _Ashton, fuck_ and Ashton just fucking loses it, comes all over his fist without warning, throwing his head back, mouthing Luke’s name.

He misses Luke coming, with his head pounding and his hearing swimming and his sight blurring, but it’s fucking worth it because Ashton doesn’t think he’s come this hard ever in his entire nineteen years of existence.

He shoves aside the thoughts that are screaming _you just fucking got yourself off to your best friend getting off, what the fuck_ and _Ashton Fletcher Irwin how the fuck are you going to look him in the eye tomorrow_ and _you are so, so royally fucked where that boy is concerned_ and allows the post-orgasm glow to take over, rolling onto one side and falling asleep almost immediately.

-

Ashton tries to act normal the next day. He lets Michael snuggle up to him before soundcheck, makes jokes about Calum’s inability to wear a belt properly during soundcheck, and meets fans outside the venue after soundcheck. It doesn’t work, though. Calum, Michael and Luke may not have known him long enough but they know him well enough to be able to tell that something’s up. So Ashton shuts himself in the back lounge, picks up a guitar like he hasn’t done in God knows how long, and plays. He plays for maybe half an hour straight before the door opens and Calum slips in.

“Is it Luke?” Calum asks.

“Is what Luke?” Ashton says, although he knows damn well what Calum means.

“That’s making you all,” Calum says, finishing with a weird hand gesture and a shrug. “Like this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashton says, turning back to the guitar. Calum sits down on the couch and says nothing, just watching Ashton play. Ashton gets through Wake Me Up When September Ends, Dammit and Therapy before Calum speaks again.

“He likes you too,” Calum says.

“I don’t like him,” Ashton says. “I mean, like, obviously I do, but as a friend.”

“C’mon, Ash, I know you better than that,” Calum says. “Don’t be patronising.” Ashton sighs and leans back in his chair, stopping the strings with his left hand.

“Yeah,” he admits. “Yeah, it is.”

“Do you like him?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says. He hasn’t really thought about it. He’s thought about Luke and Luke’s dick and Luke getting off and kissing Luke but he hasn’t really thought, like, _dating_ Luke.

But then, thinking about it, about kissing under the stars and romantic walks along beaches and holding hands with Luke and touring the world with not only his best friend but his _boyfriend_ \- yeah, that idea kind of appeals to him.

Calum looks like he’s about to say something when the door slides open again.

“Ash,” Luke says, “Michael’s taken my laptop somewhere and yours is like, right there. Can I use it really quickly? I’ll be two seconds, I promise.”

“Sure,” Ashton says, waving his hand.

“Thanks,” Luke says, relieved, shutting the door again. God, Ashton hopes Luke won’t laugh at his background because it’s a picture of the band and Ashton had just thought it was really cute and-

And _fuck_ , Ashton hadn’t shut the fanfic he’d been reading yesterday; only closed the lid.

“Fuck,” he mutters, getting to his feet immediately and yanking the door open.

“What?” Calum asks, perplexed, following in his wake. Ashton sprints out, looking around wildly for Luke, and finds him perched on Ashton’s bunk, wide eyes scanning the screen in front of him.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Ashton says, and Luke looks up.

“No?” he says. Ashton swallows.

“It’s,” he says, because there is _genuinely no excuse_ for him reading porn about him and his best friend. “A, um. Someone sent it to me on Twitter.”

“So you read all the way up to here?” Luke asks.

“Um, must have accidentally scrolled.” Ashton’s not even convincing _Calum_ , who rolls his eyes and mutters ‘oh, for fuck’s sake’ and walks back into the back lounge, leaving Luke and Ashton alone. Ashton doesn’t know whether to love him or hate him for that.

“Did you like it?” Luke asks.

“What?” Ashton asks, because there’s no right answer to that question. If he says no, Luke might get offended and be all _what, am I not good enough for you?_ but if he says yes it’s- it just opens the door for at least fifty thousand awkward situations.

“ _Do_ you like it?” Luke asks, changing the tense. Does Ashton like what?

“Do I like what?” Ashton asks. Luke puts the laptop down and stands up, almost face to face with Ashton except Ashton’s too fucking short and Luke won’t stop growing.

“Like that stuff,” Luke says.

“Fanfiction?”

“No, like,” Luke says, and he looks nervous up close. “The stuff I was doing. In the- in the fanfiction.”

“Um,” Ashton says, licking his lips anxiously. “I. I mean, like. Wouldn’t you? It’s not- I can’t really- I just-“ He’s cut off by Luke kissing him, pecking him on the lips more briefly than he’d even kissed Michael the day before.

“What?” Ashton asks after a beat.

“Sorry,” Luke says, blinking, biting his lip.

“For what?”

“Kissing you.” Luke ducks his head, and Ashton can’t help but find it the cutest thing ever. It’s ridiculous, because Luke is like, six foot seven or something stupid like that, and yet he’s the most adorable person alive.

“Why?” Ashton says, growing bolder. “I wasn’t complaining.”It takes Luke a moment to take that in, but when he does, his lips quirk up in a smile that shows his dimple and makes his eyes light up, making it so much harder not to kiss him.

“Oh,” he says, and he sounds happy about it, and _fuck it_ , because he’s here and he wants to kiss Ashton and Ashton wants to kiss him and God, Ashton fucking hates this entire band and he hates the internet and he hates everything but he loves Luke.

So he surges forwards, kissing Luke so hard that Luke makes a little taken-aback sound in the back of his throat, stumbling backwards and kissing back, kissing fiercely and passionately and _fuck_ it’s so much better than Calum or Michael. Ashton could kiss Luke forever, feel the cool metal of his lip ring and the softness of his lips for the rest of his life, but then breathing and eating and making fun of Calum and Michael are things so maybe not.

When they break apart, Ashton realises that Luke’s wrapped his arms around Ashton’s waist and Ashton’s looped his around Luke’s neck, and they’re both slightly breathless but grinning. And Ashton thinks of a million things he could say but none of them sound quite right spilling from his lips, so he settles for pressing his lips to Luke’s again softly, a gentle, chaste kiss.

-

“So, like,” Michael says to Ashton the following week. “Now that you’re fucking, can you tell us what Luke’s dick looks like?”  

“Bigger than Calum’s,” Ashton says solemnly. “Not as big as yours.” Michael preens.

“Hey!” Luke shouts. “I’m only seventeen. There’s still time.”

“True,” Michael says. “I mean, Calum’s eighteen and his balls still haven’t dropped.” Calum kicks Michael in the shin.

“I’ll drop your balls,” he threatens.

“I’ll drop _your_ balls,” Ashton says.

“What’s this?” Luke says, coming into the room towelling his hair. “Is this about Calum’s balls still not dropping?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Calum says, throwing his hands in the air. “I hate this band.”

“We all hate this band,” Michael tells him.


End file.
